146. [SEGUE] Not Quite a Heist Movie

  Zacarias Borges-Juventus had enjoyed his stay in Pretjord, warts and all.

  Sure, said stay had been marred by false starts, close calls, rough patches, and enough soapy drama to fill a whole season of the Dead and the Faithless. But in between all the bullshit, there’d also been good food, good company, good adventures, and plenty of eye candy for a hot-blooded young-ish man to admire (admire and nothing more, of course; ‘faithless’ though Zacarias might be, he’d never stoop to being ‘unfaithful’).

  Perhaps the most notable of such eye candies was one Hilde Vindsdatter, the Kronvakt’s second-in-command and high priestess of the Cult of Prince Sicko. Presently, Zacarias watched the manta-ray woman from the safety of a secluded treetop. Not to admire her chiseled figure, but to scout out a potential obstacle.

  In the absence of a binocular (another Manesferan invention that had yet to make its way to the lower Realms), Zacarias had ‘borrowed’ one of Eddur Lokksen’s SCRYGLASSes. He could do without the severed blood vessels and nerve endings getting in the way of a clean view, but it did the job as far as square pegs went. It was also a rather cruel contrivance he’d never get to try if Serac were around, she being oddly squeamish for a soul who’d endured a life of torture and mutilation. Zacarias had no such qualms, of course, knowing his barreleye colleague could easily grow his eye back upon reconstitution.

  In any case, the SCRYGLASS proved to be a savvy rental, allowing Zacarias an extensive view of the Bulb and its branches from his stationary position. With it, he made note of all the goings-on in and out of the palace, as conducted by Hilde in Rathor’s conspicuous absence.

  In a word, the palace was in the throes of mass confusion. Whether or not Team Serac’s earlier activities had much to do with it, the Krongardians were in a mad scramble to put out one fire or another, both figurative and literal. Hilde was in the middle of it all, directing her troops this way and that. It was from her commands and conversations that Zacarias gleaned most of his intel.

  The messy sequence of events appeared to be thus. Violent skirmishes had broken out in the lower segments, prompting Rathor to finally get off his vermilion ass and perform his princely duty. This was followed by the deployment of several Kronvakt strike teams on salamander-back, leaving a skeleton crew in Krongard to hold down the fort. At around the same time, word got around of the outrealmers’ ‘betrayal’, which meant anyone with a weapon or an Instrument had been conscripted to guard and patrol the palace.

  All of the above had been more or less predictable, in line with the contingencies Team Serac had prepared for. To that end, Zacarias had stashed Inge (who, in the ten days since the Realmhunt, had sadly ‘reverted’ to her senile, incoherent self) inside Ashvanaga and left them to camp in the Neck, just outside the boundaries of the ‘dungeon’ that barred a Steed’s full form. He’d also asked Petter Svensen to stay behind and look after Inge and her tortoise. The mackerel had agreed after some resistance, but Zacarias had a hunch this was one arrangement that wouldn’t last through the night. Which, in all fairness, was well and good… because part and parcel of being a Wayfarer was for one’s reach to occasionally exceed one’s grasp.

  With all that said, there had been one bizarre development no one could’ve prepared for. Namely that the Realmtree was on fire.

  Yes. The fire had started in the lower segments and crept upward as the day wore on. Now, with the pale-jade moon bearing witness, the madness had reached the Crown. Black-green flecks rose with the hot air and sparked multiple fires all over the palace, thus stretching the Kronvakt and Kronheer personnel even thinner.

  Zacarias had no clue as to the why, but the who couldn’t be more obvious. Whatever Prince Sicko was up to, it’d surely be more bullshit for Team Serac to deal with. But all that could wait. For now, Prince Sicko’s burning bullshit provided the perfect distraction to take some heat off a NINEFOLD interloper.

  Case in point, Zacarias SCRY’d an animated exchange between an irritated Hilde Vindsdatter and a soot-covered Skjal Sorensen. The manta ray eventually relented and vacated her post, perhaps to lend her gorgeous pectoral fins to the firefighting efforts.

  This is my cue. The opportunity had presented itself a little sooner than Zacarias had expected, but there was no sense in passing it up. Wasting no time, he jumped down from his tree and snuck his way across the Bulb.

  At this point, he could force his way into and through the Apical Bough, aiming for that ‘secret ladder’ Petter had briefed him about. But such a direct approach would pit him against at least several members of the Kronvakt, as well as necessitate the unsanctioned killing of Kronheer soldiers. It wasn’t that Zacarias valued the lives of Anchored souls who would stand in his way, but he did care (at least a tiny bit) about Serac’s opinion of him. Besides which, he wished to keep his Karmic balance in the black as much as possible.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  No, what this operation calls for is a scalpel, not a hammer. Back to some more heist movie shit. Although I doubt any production in Manesfera could pony up the VFX budget for what I’m about to do…

  Zacarias made for the Eastern Bough. Or, more specifically, the Pasture. The naturally preserved habitats here had been hit especially hard by the fire. Even now, gaggles of exhausted soldiers ran about the place with buckets in hand, giving a NINEFOLD interloper more or less free passage through the royal hunting grounds.

  Here again, the outrealmers’ week of harvesting ‘ammo’ for [Metabolic Shift] paid dividends. Zacarias knew the Pasture and its layout like the back of his hand, enough to draw a mental map of his ‘farming route’. The question wasn’t if he could hit all his stops, but just how fast he could do it.

  A quick sprint through the caves to wake the Rumpetrolls and Slangespytts. A hike through the thickets to rustle up the Ulvknalls and co. A dip into the rivers to bait out the Nokkens.

  Finally, the pièce de résistance. A flash of [Sinner Aspect] at the shores of the simulated Netherpool, making sure he had the time and space to mend his Poise before the Calmspawns could get to him. The same square peg from the Realmhunt, shoved into an even rounder hole. No points for style, but the result was all that mattered.

  Mennesketers and Jotuneters both jumped out in droves to join Zacarias’s growing brood. The sudden spike in threat generation also riled the rest of the Untamped Calmspawns into a state of wild rage. They converged as one ‘army’ upon the angry Pranja standing at the epicenter.

  Fire and ash. Chaos upon chaos. The Kronheer, already pushed to their limits by the unfamiliar task of firefighting, utterly crumbled as a horde of Aberrants descended upon them. Forget apprehending the Manusya criminal; it was all the soldiers could do to dive for cover and pray the monsters would leave them alone.

  Zacarias—the king of rolling with the punches—knew exactly what to do. He led the stampede from its chaotic core, weaving through the crowd to ensure they all remained sufficiently aggro’d.

  That was the easy part, however. The hard part was to protect his 1 point of HP, all the way from the Pasture back to the Bulb, then onto the heavily guarded gates of the Apical Bough. He managed it by using the Calmspawns themselves. At times hiding inside Wolf Boy’s pocket sand, at times shielding himself behind a swarm of Slangespytts, and at other times even getting Jotuneters and Nokkens tangled up in each others’ business.

  As Zacarias herded his Aberrant army toward the childhood home of his friend-in-distress, he was reminded of his own childhood. Of the long nights glued to a TV screen while waiting for Mama. But the scene failed to evoke any of his favorite heist movies like Lake’s Eleven or the Espinosa Job. No, he was man enough to admit his scalpel was much more like a hammer than he would’ve liked.

  What did I expect? I’m not a surgeon, and I’m certainly not a master con man. Trust in square pegs. Square pegs will see me through.

  With that final affirmation, Zacarias sprinted toward the gates, sending his entire army into Krongard’s last line of defense. Said defense included fellow Wayfarers of the Kronvakt, who quickly got over their initial shock to start smiting the rampaging Calmspawns. Thus, the Aberrant army’s collective ‘aggro’ shifted from one angry Pranja onto a squad of dutiful Yakshas. Hammer, meet nail.

  But just because Zacarias had swung a hammer, it didn’t preclude him from being the scalpel himself. As the Yakshas met an oncoming army, the lone Manusya slipped away from the main point of attack. He too would have to find his way into the royal chambers, but he had a more roundabout route in mind.

  Shit, almost forgot! Just as he was about to leave, Zacarias traded his angry Pranja for a laughing Buddha. He then doubled back and grabbed a Rumpetroll by the tail. The slimy tadpole tried to wriggle free, but Zacarias held fast, invoking [Palm of Empowerment] for some added grip strength.

  Then a mad dash along the outside of the Apical Bough. The short way around, as had been outlined by Petter. The amber wall to Queen No-Chill’s balcony soon came into view, which meant it was time for the most heist-movie-esque part of Zacarias’s solo run.

  [Dreamer Aspect: THE SEVENTH DAO—GEARS OF ENGAGEMENT]

  Zacarias reached the wall—a sheer, vertical plane about a hundred feet high—and kept going. The Dreamer-upgraded version of [Staff] turned his legs into fast-churning motors, normally reserved for the most frenetic of dodge-tanking duties. In this case, the [Gears] also helped him to defy gravity, at least for a few seconds.

  A few seconds were all he needed. As he neared the top, he finally put the Rumpetroll to use, flinging it onto the balcony along with a friendly warning for anyone within the blast radius.

  “Fire in the hole!”

  The tadpole grenade exploded, eliciting frightened yelps from the Kronheer guards above. Zacarias scanned Pathsight for potential Karma deductions; seeing none, he vaulted over the balustrades with a clean conscience. At least Serac would be happy to know her partner-in-crime had kept his hands clean and murder-free.

  But before she could be happy, she first needed to be rescued from impending starvation. With that in mind, Zacarias the scalpel had made his first incision. For the explosion had done more than scare away the guards. Trust in square pegs. Square pegs will see me through. The smoke cleared, revealing the entrance to Queen Loha’s secret cave.

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